sk log W
by Ghost White
Summary: An eclectic collection of FrostIron shorts named after Quantum Relative Entropy. Different worlds, different possibilities.
1. gone Tomorrow

_s=k log W_

Quantum relative entropy  
Each world is a different possibility of disorder.  
Each story is a different possibility of disorder.  
Get it?  
Good.

* * *

Open to frostiron prompts over on my Tumblr,

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just click 'ask already'.

* * *

**Gone Tomorrow**  
**1819 words**  
**Tony/Loki**  
**Angst**

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She's not a pleased woman as Happy pulls into the driveway of the Tony Stark's Malibu home that looks more like a glass UFO than a billion dollar structure. Heat waves rippling up from the baking concrete as the ocean beyond it rolls with the endless pull of the tide. A cold release from all the heat.

It would be pretty picturesque if not for how pissed off Pepper was.

This trip could have been avoided if Tony only answered his phone for once, there's only a hand full of papers he has to sign a year now that she's acting CEO and leave it to him to avoid one of those times. Jarvis kindly telling her that he's busy at the moment the first time she'd tried calling from her office, by the third day he didn't even respond, just let it dump straight into voice mail. She's sure this is all Loki's doing. The god is a sore spot in her otherwise once perfect life.

Tapping her manicured finger nail against the folder in her hand she waits for the gates to open and Happy to come around the Rolls to let her out.

"It will only be a moment Happy, just leave it running." She says with a fake smile, already feeling the mid summer heat pouring down on her as she walks across the concrete drive up to the house. The cove over the doorway doing little to protect her from the heat as she leans in close to the control panel by the door.

Out of respect for ancient Norse deities that enjoy blood baths, she should knock.

Pepper punches in the access code with an under her breath swear.

The house opens up to her like a gaping black mouth that wants to swallow her up. It's not cold though. There was a time before Afghanistan and Iron Man when Tony would keep the house at a sub zero temperature, after he came back the idea of dark, cold places seemed to spring him into a panic attack that had to be some kind of PTSD. This is a sauna though, a sticky warmth that's more humid than the air outside. Almost as hot too.

The TVs in the living room are silent; the windows dimmed blocking off most of the light from the sun. The once full of life mansion now simply feels like a mausoleum over run with shadows.

A very hot mausoleum.

"Jarvis turn on the air. It's an oven in here."

"Jarvis override Ms Potts command and leave the current temperature of the house alone."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson." Jarvis says in perfect monotone that should have no emotional inflection but the AI almost sounds relieved. Like she's the trespasser. Her. Not Loki. She closes her eyes tight for a moment to clear her thoughts, trying to corral in the raging emotions. Hatred is first but blind terror is a close second, wrestling for control.

Smoothing her hand over her blazer, she turns slowly and to see Loki standing in the deep shadows by the waterfall, his green eyes glowing with a haze in the darkness.

Even now, three years after he's invaded earth, he's still terrifying to her. Shield has cleared him as a non-threat and Tony's fallen in some bastardized version of love for the god, to her, he will always be the monster in the dark.

Especially as the smug bastard smiles at her.

"Is Anthony home?" She asks, clasping the folder against her chest like it's a shield, like it can protect her from his evil.

"He is." Loki says, tipping his head to one side and watching her with calculating eyes. She feels like a mouse trapped between the paws of a tiger.

"Right, down in the shop." She says, gathering the courage to walk past him only he pushes himself up off the wall and into her path. All six feet of a very powerful god and mage.

"No."

"Excuse me?" She asks, her frown slipping onto her face as her annoyance overrides all the fear that's clogging her veins.

"No. He's not taking visitors at the moment." He says, his voice condescending and sharp as he thrusts out a hand, his fingers long and elegant and deadly. "Give me what is for him and leave."

Her spine goes ridged and sharp and she clutches the folder tighter. "Excuse you? No. I think I'm finished talking to you. Tony?" she calls out, terrified that he's done something awful to her boss and ex.

The ticker tape of possibilities is endless and horrifying.

"Tony!?" She calls again, her voice echoing though the hot darkness as Loki swears behind her, his sudden grip on her arm tight and hard as he grabs her.

"Give me what is for him now if you wish for him to have it and leave or I will skin you." He hisses, his green eyes toxic and feral as he leans in close, towering over her.

"You've got to be nice to Peps." Tony's voice brings both their heads around and she's horrified to see how bad he looks leaning against the wall. She'd assumed he was in the shop, doing his own little thing, working on the suit. God she wishes now it was true. His brown hair soaked to his brow and once rich eyes washed out to a sad chocolate. His smiles there, but it's a tired stretch of pale lips and lacking his normal charm.

"Tony. Please." Loki says and all the anger and venom in his tone is gone completely, he shoving her away against the wall and going to Tony. "I said I'd get it."

"and Jarv said it was Pep and yhew-" He breaks off his weak voiced rant to cough, bowing over and the wet sound makes Pepper want to cry. Loki's hands gentle as he gathers Tony against his chest. Supporting the shorter man though his coughing and rubbing his back.

"You two hate each other." Tony groans, swallowing a few times before trying to straighten up. He sways for a moment before finding his pillar against Loki. His head down against him like he's to tired to keep it up and keep himself on his feet at the same time.

"Tony..." She breathes out, the look of pure hate Loki shoots her is terrifying but at the moment her need to pacify Tony is greater." Tony. I don't hate him."

"Don't bullshit me, Pep. I'm sick. Not ignorant. You two hate each other." She blushes, looking away from them for a moment. The folder in her hands nearly forgotten as she realizes it's still in her grasp. She should hand it to him and tell him to sign the papers but when her mouth opens up nothing comes out right.

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"Banner is in town, He comes in the morning and at night." Loki says for Tony. The long fingers of his hand stroke through Tony's sweat damp hair, twisting around the soft curls at his nap.

"See Pep and I'm getting better." Tony says, his voice muffled and rough from coughing, the weak smile on his face only last a moment.

None reach Loki's, the god's eyes are distant and full of what can only be hurt and Pepper realizes with icy dread that it's all a big lie.

"Better, but not best. You must return to bed." The god whispers, his lips brushing against Tony's fevered brow before leading him down the hall.

Pepper stands for a moment like her bones have turned to stone. The beat of her heart suddenly so painful that she wants to scream, she can feel it bubbling up to the point she has to keep her mouth closed and breathe through her nose. Watching the two walk slowly back to the bedroom, Tony's movements the sluggish drag of someone too hurt and too tired to carry on and it's will alone that keeps him moving. Loki never once takes his hand off the small of his back.

Slowly, with her cement bones and hollow heart, she wanders back to the master bedroom. Standing in the doorway as she watches Loki's back and Tony lying down. Her eyes passing over them to the bedside table and the little army of putrid orange medication bottles, she wonders with a growing understanding of how long this has been going on behind everyone's back.

Does anyone know? Bruce knows but does Shield and the Avengers?

Tony would never want anyone to know. It's him. Not Loki. He's always been one to hide away from his problems. Crawl off like a cat about to die and do so in peace with his lover by his side. The fact that he didn't call her was like a dagger in her heart she'd long thought was gone.

She stares for a long time at someone she'd thought of as indestructible through all odds lays very broken on a bed too big. Turning away out of decency for once and not shame as Loki brushes his lips to Tony's and murmurs soft words in a language she doesn't recognize.

Her tears are hot in her eyes by the time she makes it to the door and the blazing sun outside. Cold long fingers stopping her short before she can make it past the out cove to the driveway.

Loki doesn't say anything for a long moment, holding tight to her arm with green eyes that hold just as much liquid as hers. His throat working before he lets go of her.

"He's dying, isn't he?" She asks, the question a bitter copper taste in her mouth as she blinks her eyes quickly, refusing to cry in front of this man.

"Yes. Banner fears he has but days now. There's no stopping the poison this time. No rebuilding the reactor. No out." Loki says quietly, wrapping his arms over his chest like despite the heat it's cold for him. Like his heart is on ice back in the bedroom.

There's some bitter part of her that's glad to see him suffering.

"What is the point of being a god if you can't stop one man from dieing?" She hisses.

Loki flinches, recoiling like he's been struck. She thought she'd like to see the vivid splash of tears in his eyes just because he is a monster but it just makes her feel sick now. Unable to take the words back, unable to take anything back.

There's no apology that's going to stop Tony from dying.

"Goodbye." She says, not just to him, but Tony as well, her voice breaking somewhere in the middle with a barely contained cry before turning away. Clutching the folder to her chest. It never got signed but now that matters so little, like it's a forgotten fragment for a world long ago.

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Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition


	2. Learning to fly again

Open to frostiron prompts over on my Tumblr,

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* * *

**Learning to fly again**  
**2977 words**  
**Tony/Loki**  
**Angst/Hurt/Comfort**

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Tony Stark fixes broken things…

Tapping his light pin against the edge of the table he runs through the schematics in his head.

"Jarvis, bring up were the reactor is going to fit in. Splinter that view please." He watches the minimized arc reactor, dragging it apart even further with his hands as he leans back against the table, propping his elbows against it.

"Power output on that is going to be the same right?"

"From this configurations sir, yes."

Tony hums softly in acceptance; with a wave of his hands he collapses the schematics back on itself till the suit is standing at attention one ninth the scale of actual size. Spinning it about for a moment. Tinkering. Stalling as his mind rattles through possibilities for last minute design changes.

"Run that through a diagnostic check."

"Yes sir. Afterwards, would you like me to put it through to construction?"

It's a good design. Damn good. His best one yet. Weapons system is different, lighter, flexibility is improved in key areas, but he won't know the extent of it till he gets her in the air.

"How long will that take?"

"Approximately twelve hour's sir."

He nods, picking up his scotch and drinking down the last dredges left by the ice with a grimace, the forgotten drink more dishwater than alcohol.

"Yeah. Do that for me, babe. Don't forget the paint job." He says, lifting to his feet and collapsing down the interface schematics with his palm before heading across the lab to the little kitchenette off to the side. Gathering his Tupperware container of wheat grass mix, orange juice and mixer together, searching for a plug and trying not to burn himself on the soldering iron he left on near the sink.

"Sir. I do hate to disturb you but there's a call in from Mr. Rogers on the communication lines."

Breathing out a sigh he pinches his nose for a moment. "Yeah. Let me hear him."

"Tony."

"Sup, Spangle Butt?"

"Spa- Tony now isn't the time. We've got a problem up on the roof."

Tony arches an eyebrow and lifts his eyes up to the ceiling like he can see all the way through to the issue. "And?"

Please don't be…

"He's on the ledge again."

Fuck.

Groaning he nods his head and starts in the direction of the elevator, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair as he passes.

"I'm going up."

Two months ago, they'd had a package dumped in their laps. About six feet four, hundred fifty pounds soaking wet, Thor's little adopted brother.

Loki, not so much of Asgard, more of Jotunheim. More officially now of Midgard.

Apparently as recompense for his deeds he'd been stripped of his powers as a god and magic before being dropped of into the New Mexican desert like Thor had.

No big brother to protect him when Shield had come and picked him up.

It wasn't Odin's brightest plan in Tony's opinion; by the time Shield had defined him a non threat and turned him over to the Avengers to deal with the ex god was a mess with a capital M.

It had nearly wiped the team out when Fury had dropped off the tortured man like a bag of dirty laundry, even Clint who had personal reasons more than the rest of them to hate Loki, had wanted to beat the shit out of the world for it.

It's hard to feel like an American hero when you know your own organization tortures people nearly to death.

The first time Loki had found his way to the roof they'd all spent three hours up with him, trying to stop the man from jumping only to fail. He'd leapt. Tony had caught him thanks to the suit. He really hopes it doesn't come to that again even as he fixes the tracking bracelets onto his wrists.

"Hey Cap. Stay back here okay. I've got it." He says, patting his hand against Steve's chest as he passes, coming off the elevator into the afternoon sunlight. Striding across the loose gravel and piping to lean against an air duct. His eyes on Loki's back as he teeters at the edge.

"You got to stop doing this." Tony sighs, shoving his sunglasses on and slowly walking up to Loki's side. Staying a respectful few feet away.

"Whole reason for this is so it will stop." Loki says his voice so soft it nearly gets eaten away by the wind this high up. His hair blowing into his face as he turns his head to the side to look to Tony.

Tony can't help but nod at that. He's a piss poor negotiator. Stroking his hands through his hair with a sigh, messing it up even more than it normally is.

Glancing over as Loki shifts his weight to his toes and leans into the wind a little, his eyes closed for a private moment, the wind pushing against his clothes and hair like a million tiny hands trying to hold him up. He looks peaceful for that second and Tony tense, ready to leap after him.

There's no jump though as the ex-god slowly lowers back onto flat feet with a broken sound escaping his throat.

When Loki opens his eyes slowly, the tears there make the ocean green depths as clear as the sky.

"It gets better. From here on out. Life as a human, it gets better." Tony says softly, feeling like a total ass because life as a human can't get much worse than what Loki's been forced through already.

"I can feel this body dying."

Reaching out slowly Tony grabs for the ex-gods shaking hand. If he jumps he'll drag Tony down with him, he's just too close to the ledge now to stop their fall but he can't let go. Won't let go.

"It's not like that. Not everyone is like them. Not everyone is" _evil _"going to get you." Loki's fingers tremble in his grasp, lax for a moment before holding tight. He can hear the shift of gravel behind him, Steve or Banner maybe.

"I feel so weak; a babe has more strength than I, more life."

"You can feel alive again. This isn't the way."

Loki closes off from him, no longer looking over, no longer acknowledging Tony by his side at all. His washed out eyes tracking the street so far below, Tony wonders what he see's there, if he's seeing this at all.

"I want to take you somewhere. Show you something. Will you step away from the ledge for a moment and let me show you something?" He asks, meeting Loki's eyes for a fleeting moment.

"What?" Loki asks slowly like he's actually considering it, calculating. There's a brilliant mind in all that mess if only Tony can get to it.

"It's going to take me a little while to get it together, make a few calls, we'll take a flight out to the Salt Flats. If you don't like it, I'll give you the gun to shoot yourself with myself." He can hear the gasps behind him, the murmurs of displeasure. He's a betting man and he's willing to lay down a life on this one because really, if it doesn't work, Loki will still in the end find a way to kill himself.

"Vow?"

"On Steve's mother." He says with a grin, giving Loki's hand a squeeze. "Come on, let's get a drink."

_O0o0o0o0o0o_

It had taken twenty four hours to get everything together in all the right areas, a cargo shipment and a flight out to Utah for two, denying the teams want to go with them just to see what kind of plan Tony had.

His gamble was over 4 thousand pounds and with a price tag of one million two hundred fifty thousand.

Pulling into the flats they come up to the semi unloading the cargo. She's sleek and black in the blazing sun a perfect creation if Tony's ever seen one.

"You've never driven it once Tony? I didn't even know you had one." Happy asks glancing into the review mirror for a second.

"I've never had a need to." He sighs, adjusting his sunglasses to cut the glare from the sun and the salt. His eyes tracking the crew unloading the Bugatti Veyron with care as the circle around to park out of the way.

Its timing had been bad. Her delivery had coincided with his disappearance in Afghanistan. She'd gone into storage, he'd gone insane. By the time he'd come back and cleared his head enough to drive her the lure was gone, he'd had the suit.

He glances to Loki who for most if the three hour drive has spent his time with his dark head against the tinted window watching the world travel by, that lost look in his eyes. He's sitting up now as he watches what their pulling up to.

Tony's little black diamond.

"And you're going to let him drive it?"

"Yup." Tony swears he can hear Happy say something along the lines of 'lucky bastard' under his breath but makes no comment of it as they come to a stop. Getting out of the limo and crossing his arms over the top, watching silently as Loki walks slowly to the Bugatti. Boots crunching in the salt as the ex-god approaches the super car. Both long and black and sleek. They go well together.

A splash of oil on the blazing white flats, not a blemish but a black hole. Something to be respected.

"Is it your design?" Loki asks, his voice soft in the empty void of the salt flats, glancing up from the stream line car to Tony as he approaches.

"A little. Hartmut Warkuss had me in for a few design ideas when they were still on the drawing board for her. Nothing big though. Honestly I don't think I could have built her better if I tried." He admits, stroking his hand down the fender before popping open the driver door. "Come on, get in."

The look Loki shoots him is wide eyed, his shoulder length hair blowing with a bit of wind that picks up salt at their feet. "What?"

"Get in. You're driving her."

"I have never driven a car before."

"She's not a car, she's perfection. Get in." Tony says, looking at him over the top of his sunglasses as he taps his index finger against the open door's seal.

Loki stands hesitant for a moment before dropping into the seat, Tony shows him how to adjust it to accommodate for his long legs before coming around to the passenger side.

"Buckle up." He says, fixing the four point harness over his chest and watching to make sure the ex god does the same. There's little to hit out here but spinouts at the flats aren't uncommon at all. Not that the Bugatti should have a problem, at over 4 tons she's heavy enough to not slide on the salt.

"Push that button there." He says, pointing at the starter after Loki's settled in. He engine is whisper quiet considering all the power locked under the hood. Loki's hands tense a little on the steering wheel, the feel of the car getting to him a bit. There's a little thrill in his eyes that Tony had almost thought was dead. Like that old cocky bastard that demanded the world to kneel to him is waking up slowly from a long sleep.

Tony loves every second of it.

He reaches out to the dash and flicks the switch himself and the beast whirls and settles.

"The fin in the back drops down, it reduces the drag."

Loki nods slowly, looking to Happy standing by the limo and the rear view screen displaying the small crew standing by the transport truck before his eyes settle on the stretch of open flat land in front of them.

"What do I do?" the ex-deity asks. Swallowing back the shake in his whisper.

Tony spends a moment going through the gears between them and the basics; "right is gas, left is break. She's an automatic so she'll shift for you. From here on out. Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war."

The tilt of Loki's lips in a smile is incredible considering no ones seen one from him in two months.

He's afraid that Loki's going to ease her out for a moment as they sit in silence listening to the soft purr of the engine. That his bet is off, that he's going to have to hand over a shiny nice gun. The last piece of Stark weaponry he'll ever be able to handle.

Another person he's failed and killed.

The lead weight in his gut turns to jelly as Loki slams down onto the gas and in a spray of salt they spend just under three seconds going to sixty. The force pushing them back in the bucket seats.

Loki's knuckles are white till they start pass a hundred mph, the tension slipping from him as the salt flats blur and the Bugatti eats up the ground like a hungry monster.

She needs a three mile straight to get to full speed and the salt flats give Loki plenty of room to stretch his legs.

Tony risks a glance over, the thrill kicking his own adrenalin up and his heart is racing next to the socket wall of the arc. He knows he's won his gamble when as the needle flirts with 240, Loki closes his eyes, takes his hands off the wheel and lets the Veyron rocket them to max speed.

At full speed she roars across the salt flats like a black rocket at 256 mph, burning through the tank of gas in just under twelve minutes. Leaving them coasting to a slow stop way away from where Happy and the crew are set up.

Loki is breathing hard, the pants filling the car as his breath turns to strangled sobs.

"Why… gods above Stark. Why did you bring me here? Why did you do this?" He says as he turns his sorrowful eyes to him for a moment before looking back to the unmoving flats before them again.

"I needed to know."

"To know what? That you could show me for a second what I once had? That… that your toys can replicate power in some ways? That… that… I didn't feel like I was dying, Stark. For a moment in this miserable existence, I didn't feel like I was dying."

Tony exhales softly, watching the crew bring the loading truck up to them, Happy following behind in the limo.

"I needed to know if you could fly."

"Why would you do that?" Loki hisses. He should be a little proud of himself; he's gotten more emotion from the man in the last hour than the whole team did in two months. Loki looks like he's going to reach across the polished aluminum and leather cab to strangle him for a moment but stops himself. Shaking his head Loki unbuckles quickly and gets out of the sports car, striding to the approaching limo.

"You've proven your point Stark, you've shown me exactly what this body is; a cheap copy of life. That… machine, as magnificent as it is, only last a moment though, what is that through a whole life? That can not sustain someone such as me."

"That was nothing. That was a test drive." Tony argues back, jogging after him under the arid sun, the salt a prominent taste in his mouth.

"A test drive to what Stark?" Loki rounds on him his voice rising, his eyes burning bright in the sun and white. "To what?"

Tony nods his head, turning away from Loki and walking over to the transport vehicle. Not waiting for Loki to follow as he jabs into the type pad, entering his twelve digit number. The side panels opening up with a hiss of pressurized air.

"That's what." He snaps, grabbing the suitcase from the front compartment and pulling out the revolver. Holding it out to Loki with a frown. "Go on. Take it. Take the gun or the suit."

Live or die.

Loki stands stock still in the heat, his aqua eyes unreadable as they stair up into the open compartment at the two Iron Man suits. One's Tony's. One's not. Designed for someone who's taller, sleeker, black with hints of green and golden bronze.

The ex gods throat bobs as he swallows, eyes slowly lowering back down to Tony.

"I told you, I needed to know if you could fly. It's obvious you can. I think you can handle what that can give you. Can you Loki? Can you handle it?" He asks softly, his voice hard though, no room for bullshit. Thrusting his hand out so the gun dangles from his fingers, gleaming deadly and cold in the sunlight.

Loki nods slowly, his eyes bright like they were so very long ago, shining with tears and life. His hand shaking a little as he pushes the gun down to Tony's side.

"It flies?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Faster than the car?"

Tony chuckles, the bubble of emotion nearly a giggle and nods, his grin nothing but sin. "It makes the Bugatti look slow."

Loki's eyes return to the suits once more, the smile that turns just the corners of his mouth up is small but shines with hope.

"What do I do?"

Tony Stark knows how to fix broken things because he was once broken.

He knows that sometimes when all you want to do is throw yourself off a roof and fly till your body gives out on the ground below, you just need to invent something that prevents you from hitting the ground.

* * *

_Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition_


	3. pray for me

Open to frostiron prompts over on my Tumblr,

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just click 'ask already'.

* * *

**Pray for me**  
**1,214 Words**  
**Tony/Loki**  
**Angst/horror**

* * *

They had failed the earth. Failed to protect it, to avenge it. Failed to do everything but bleed.

Tony's sure he's the last of them alive, they'd struggled so hard, fought till their bodies had given out under the pressure. Bones broke, skin ripped, blood had poured so much like crimson rain.

Shield had tried, the nuke over Manhattan was not the saving grace, there was no closing the portal once it was open, the Tesseract assured its survival. The god assured his own.

Loki had risen from the ashes like an apocryphal angel. The beast of Armageddon, eyes ablaze as he rained his wrath down upon humans.

When other atom bombs were sent; that red button pushed, he'd warped his magic and turned them against humanity. LA, Washington, New York, Tokyo, Moscow, Amsterdam, Jerusalem; all the major cities were the first to go. From there Loki had spread out his army, destroying the civilized world in less than a day. The sky a crimson ash of fallout and the rivers tainted with wormwood and blood.

Everything gone, trampled over, ruined under the destructive wrath of a scorned god.

Subjection could never be more brutal.

Breathing slowly hurt, the shallow draws nothing but a wet drag, the wheezes echoing through the large empty chamber.

Tony's not sure where he is, America is a ruin; Loki's wrath especially focused there, the air cold and damp. Maybe Britain. Its dim lit and cavernous where ever it is, the Tesseract casting the space in an unearthly blue that blurs his vision. The shadows move here, swimming, although he's not sure if that's his own nausea.

Closing his eyes against the tears that threaten to spill. Failure gnawing at his belly almost as much as the pain threatens to bring up what blood has collected in his empty stomach.

"Do not tell me you mourn for them still?" The whisper against his cheek has him pulling at the chains that bind his gauntlets in place against the wall. His shattered ribs grinding with the movement.

Opening his eyes slowly Tony regards Loki with as much skepticism as he can manage, his wit is gone, his fast tongue dormant in his mouth. The great Tony Stark a broken trophy in Loki's throne room.

Warm fingers are delicate as they grip his bruised jaw, turning his head to meet Loki's glowing eyes in the dim blue light.

"You shed tears for mortals you do not know? No I think not. For your comrades in arms, people you despise? Hate? Loathe?" Loki whispers against his skin, the hot tickle of breath the first warmth Tony's felt in days and his skin crawls even as his body craves the comfort of gentle contact.

"The man whom shattered your childhood? Who stole your father's love, I wonder? Are the tears for him? Or the woman assassin? You openly admitted to hating her how long ago? Nigh but a blink in time has passed, surly the tears are not for her."

The back of the gods fingers are gentle as they stroke away the dampness from his cheeks, the shock of a hot tongue lapping the blood from the corner of his mouth as Loki's lips move so dangerously close to his. Long fingers fitting under a tear in his suit, stroking against his blood and sweat soaked chest earning him something caught between a whimper and a moan from Tony's throat.

Betrayed by his own body, his soul only wishing to flee.

"No… is it the man within the dull beast? Your colleague." The word is hissed like it tastes bitter in the god's mouth, his fingers curling against a gash in his side, digging in till fresh blood dribbles hot over his fingers. Tony's vision blurring and he knows death will be coming soon, his heart skipping and stumbling in his chest, failing to find a steady tempo as pain overwhelms him.

"Did he not attempt to find an end to his suffering himself? Mayhap I was simply answering unspoken prayers." Loki seems to muse, tilting his head to the side like a curious child. Lips twisting into a smile. "I am a god after all."

Tony groans his knees sagging under his weight as Loki's fingers move down from the wound. Breathing in as sharp of a breath as he dares. Shaking with the cold of shock and blood loss his head dips foreword, resting his temple to Loki's chest as the god strokes his fingers up his numb arms and around the cuffs and gauntlets that hang above his head. Seeming to be examining the bindings for a moment with a casual air.

"Would you pray to me mortal?" He asks as his hands return to Tony's face, cursedly warm as he cups his cheeks and brings his chin up. Staring down into his eyes and soul and watching with his immoral smile as Tony shivers and slips a little further away.

"How easily you've said it before." Warm lips are against his ear now, Loki nuzzling against his blood and sweat matted hair. "Oh god, oh god, please god."

"Yesss…" The god hisses, stroking his hands down blood soaked armor, fingers dipping between tears and fissures to touch crimson slick skin. His tongue tasting the skin just under Tony's ear, warm and hot. A promise of pleasure in a world so consumed in hurt.

"How many of your prayers have I so willingly answered without you even knowing it?"

His hot fingers find a tear in the suit at his hip, just the tips of blood slick fingers stroking against un-bruised skin leaving fire and goose bumps in their wake.

"How many am I willing to answer still?" He whispers against damp skin, breathing in like he can smell Tony's fear and horror, comfort and arousal.

"I can be forgiving, accommodating even. All you must do is ask properly. Can you do that? After everything, can you still pray to me?"

Loki backs off for a damming moment as Tony stubbornly uses his mouth to do nothing but breath and let blood drop down the ruin of armor over his chest. Loki's furious eyes calming for as he examines him. Reaching out and stroking his hand over the dull flicker of the arc, his eyes studying the pale glow with its cracks and blood streaks.

Tony sucks in a breath, body bumping boneless to the ground. His bare hands slipping right out of the shackles as his destroyed armor disappears from his body, old wounds tearing open, painting the hard ground red with his blood as he falls onto it. The soft cry that leaves his cracked lips is weak and heartbroken.

He couldn't stop the shakes that tremor through his body even if he had the will to. His vision swimming with the shadows of approaching death as Loki kneels at his side, cape dipping into the pool of blood.

"Pray to me." The god whispers lowly, stroking his fingers reverently through Tony's hair and over his cheek.

His fingers tinged green with healing magic, his wicked eyes full of promises.

Tony closes his eyes slowly to block out the blurred world around him. His heart was calm and even as the muscle fluttered and stumbled.

"Please, god."

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Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition


	4. Loosing you

**Loosing you**  
**2163 Words**  
**Tony/Loki**  
**Angst**

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If he was home, back on Asgard he'd have abandoned himself to his rooms by now, holed up in the warm dark depths where he could rest away his troubles but he's not home anymore. He's not been home in years, the passage of time long enough that his memories of the golden place has dulled, loosing the edge.

Returning to Midgard after invading it, being forced by his father's hand into joining the Avengers. So long ago that what was once bitter, now it's just a numb fact that has brought him to the place in life he's at now.

He has friends now, real friends. His oaf of an adopted brother, so that can be counted as family. And someone who loves him as deeply and dearly as the mad engineer is capable of.

Not that any of that matters at the moment, he's still searching for a hole to crawl into and hide away from the world. Driven to baser instinct, far beyond rational level, by the pain.

"Is anyone in the garage?"

"No sir."

Good. It's cavernous and dark and full of corners that he can crawl into and sleep away his illness. Slipping past the com room and its cheerful noise, someone's watching TV, someone else is shouting about the choice in channels. Neither Rogers nor Natasha mention him as he tucks himself into the corner of the elevator and descends down.

The last night's mission had gone unwell for all of them; Tony still sprawled out in the bed sleeping off the lasting effects of pain medication for the ugly marks that mapped out his back. He'd been hit hard and gone down against a building harder. The suit was good at protecting the mortal, but metal and engineering only did so much in the face of the odd villain that had true power.

Even Loki himself didn't fair as well as he'd acted, his insides radiated a hot pain that matched the ache that bloomed between his temples every time anything brighter than a dull glow graced his eyes.

Stark/Avengers tower is a damningly bright place more often than not.

"Jarvis, Dim the lights fifty percent please." He demands weakly, shielding his eyes from the other fifty percent with his hand as he leans against the elevator wall, the trip short as he descends several floors to garage level.

The doors open and the scent of leather, metal and oil rush into the elevator with him, a warm blanket that conjures memories of one genius idea involving the hood of a car before they're scatted by pain. The lights turning on at an equal dimness. Pushing himself away from the elevator wall is a Herculean task that leaves him sapped of nearly all his strength, walking across the room stealing away what is left.

His legs shaking, his muscles feel like soft clay and his joints lined in sandpaper as he sinks helplessly to the floor near one of Tony's flame red cars, making it no further to a corner to hide in. His coat tails pooling around his body as he slumps against the car's cold metal side. The tactical chill only intensifies the tremble of muscles that he'd been fighting off, turning them to full blow visible shakes.

"Sir, if I may, you seem unwell. Can I contact Dr. Banner for you? Or perhaps Tony?"

"No." He groans out, sliding till his side is against the cold ground and drawing his knees up to his chest. Trying to fend of the angry monster that's tearing his insides into bleeding ribbons of agony. "It will pass."

Gods above, let it pass.

The haze of pain like a tide that pulls him down and under the black depths of a numbing ocean, that parts only as he wakes slowly from it.

Voices and sounds swim around him. The sounds having colors and tastes that leave his mind a splintered ruin. Auroras of mellow blue and purple are punctuated by sharp notes that splash red though his mind, a steady beat of something that comes across as a not pleasant sound somewhere very close. The smells and tastes that rot on his tongue are chemical and overpowering.

Colors melting into words like so much graffiti in a downtown subway. Unless you know the langue it's all colorful gibberish. It should be concerning how hard it is for him to decipher everything around him.

"He's coming back around, someone want to get Tony?"

"Thor's still out with Hawk."

"That's fine. Get Tony, he's probably at the bar in the rec room. Fuck. If he's too drunk maybe don't bring him back here. You've got to make the call."

"Yeah. Okay. No belligerent drunken idiot."

"I'm never _that_ drunk."

He struggles through a gulf of cotton and darkness like emerging from under a wet blanket, neither warm nor very comforting. His eyelids held shut like someone had taken the effort to tie his lashes together. It's almost not even worth the effort to open them, the room overly bright and blurry, taking on a swimming double vision of itself before things start to straiten out.

The unceasing bothersome noise near his head is actually a heart monitor. How very curious.

Banner is looking doctor professional at his bedside, hair messed, flecks of blood dried on his bare arms and over his dress shirt like something bad has happened and he didn't take the time to throw on a surgical gown. Rogers just looks tired and maybe a little green around the gills. Tony though is wearing that blank look that Loki's learned to associate with trauma, car accidents, and Widow PMS-ing.

"Why am I here?" He asks, or at least he feels his lips move and his throat ach desert dry and a ruin of pain. They look at him like he's not speaking English, or at least not coherent English. Maybe he's not.

Tony's eyes darken and he jerks his head quickly to the door, a silent command that Bruce and Steve are more than willing to take; scrambling from the room like it's on fire. Stark watches silent and still as the door closes with a hiss and leaves them in them alone in the empty operating theater, that damming heart monitor still beeping merrily away.

The mortal is not making eye contact, not avoiding it overly, just his eyes scan over everything, and his eyebrows knit in the middle, the frown making him look as old as he real is.

"You're… mad." Loki tries again with speaking; working especially hard to make sure his words come out right. Even in his own ears he sounds like a drunk trying not to sound drunk.

He makes the mistake of trying to sit up, his up till now numb body coming to life in a harmony of chaotic pain. Sucking in a hiss and falling back to the table beneath him he concentrates on breathing; each breath a lick of flame down his throat, his abdomen a network of live wire nerves each one as angry as the man in the room with him.

"Who? Me? Mad? Now why, Loki? Why would I have any need to be angry? Lover going off to the garage to die like an animal alone. No real reason to be mad at all. Kind of thought we we're past the whole 'fuck my life' stage of our relationship. Apparently not. We do shit different on Asgard. "

Tony's voice cuts though the pain filled fog that threatens to pull him back under into unconsciousness again. Bitter and sharp the mortal spit's the words like acid and when Loki opens his eyes again, swimming in the mists of a watery world Tony's brown eyes are as black as the night with ire.

"No. Loki. I have no right to possibly be mad at you."

"Wh-what?" He groans, swallowing, trying to find relief in the melting and reshaping world around him, something to ground himself with by as Tony remains untouchable. His mind still so many shattered bits of glass, he's beginning to come to the conclusion it's from drugs.

"Bruce just spent the last four hours up to his elbows in your inners." Tony says his voice suddenly detached as he strides around the table and jabs at the screen till the heart monitor finally silences. "If not for Jarvis being so sweet and monitoring you down there, you'd be dead by now. If I paid him, I'd give him a raise."

He shakes his head slowly no, trying to fight for more facts than his spotty memory are giving him, groaning softly. "No."

"No?" Tony questions, propping his hip against the table. So close but far enough away it might as well be miles.

"I… No. I was- I needed sleep."

"Yeah. And you left the bedroom and went down to the basement to do it because that's what normal people do." Tony grunts and shifts way, the movements fast and violent as he grabs a stool and drags it across the floor to sit by the tableside. Still not touching, arms crossed over his chest and blocking out the arc's soothing glow.

"I… hurt."

Tony's lips are a thin line when Loki looks over to him; he's holding back his temper so hard that his knuckles are white against his biceps and jaw bunched as he grits his teeth. "Why the fuck did you go down there?" He says slowly, controlled to the point of detachment.

"I hurt."

"And you turned away from the people who could help you, your friends. Fuck Loki. ME! Fuck you. Fuck this shit." Tony swears as what ever small control he had on his emotions is gone standing to his feet, the stool falling to the floor in a crash of metal. His hands a shocking jolt of warmth as he grabs Loki by the chin and forces their eyes to meet and hold. The mahogany depths that Loki's so many times found love in before, find nothing now. Tony seems to be searching too. His hand slipping away as he strides across the operation room.

"Yeah. Okay." the mortal nods, his expression closed off and so very far away and Loki knows, even with his drug shattered mind and battered body, it's over. What ever delicate bound of trust was built with their love is gone, crushed under the stress of something Loki doesn't even quite understand at the moment.

His heart twisting in his chest, aching and stopping in a way that the heart monitor will never pick up. Fumbling to get up even as his body screams in pain and his insides threaten to spill out though thin stitches and staples onto the cold floor.

"Tony."

The word slips from his mouth, tainted with a moan of pain, his arms shaking with the effort to hold up his torso, rattling down though the table and the equipment around him. The monitor an angry jagged line as his heart races in his chest.

The engineer's shoulders drop like he's wilting on his spine, his head hanging a little, brown hair a little mop between his shoulders. "I'd just thought. There was more to us than this. My bad. Oops. Tony Stark should know better than to try and-"

And? And?! Loki's heart is trying its best to liberate itself from his chest and Tony just stands there and shrugs his limp shoulders.

"Are we that fucked up, that you can't trust me when you're hurt?" Tony tries a moment later, his voice so unnaturally soft that Loki nearly can't hear it over the heavy drumbeat of his pulse in his ears.

He shakes his head slowly no, his breaths coming out in barely chocked back sobs, sweat prickling on his brow and slipping down into his eyes. Or maybe that's just tears.

"No."

"Then why the fuck didn't you come to me? Why?"

"You're… hurt. You need rest." He chokes out, aware of how desperate his voice sounds, broken, horse and bleeding like his heart feels.

Tony turns his back to him, rubbing his hand over his face. Loki can see him rubbing his palms over his closed eyes and scrubbing his hair even without having the visual. It's the same look he gives a project that's giving him trouble, something he just can't quite wrap his mind around no matter how much effort he puts into it.

"Tony…" He chokes out. Needing something, a response, a look, anything but this damning silence between them.

"I think it would be best if we had some time alone for a while, away from each other. I'm going to Malibu." Tony's voice cuts across the void and Loki was wrong, the silence was better than this heart shattering dread.

Loki can't bring himself to understand why everything went wrong as the mortal pushes out of the operating theater and leaves him alone in the world.

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Big fat thanks to my Beta glamourraisedfromperdition.


	5. misplaced not gone

A big shout out and thank you to my lovely beta glamourraisedfromperdition.  
As always, fans. This is for you, Tony and Loki. The rest is stardust.

follow me on tumblr at www . blank-ghost . tumblr . com

_my ask box is open to fic questions and story ideas!_

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He'd been here before. Not this run down bar in the Bronx of New York somewhere in the middle of the nineteen forties, but the darkness. The out of option feeling; being so… lost. The warm blanket of solitude, having run away from everything. It's all blaringly familiar to so many years ago when he'd cast himself into the abyss of space.

He's here again. Alone in a world he has no care for.

A world away from Anthony.

"Another dove?" The woman behind the counter asks, as she's already well into filling the glass in front of him with an amber port. Tony's drink. Scotch. The liquid swirls like the cosmos as he examines the dredges with an empty heart.

No.

Not empty, full. Too full. Crammed to overflowing with memories of laughs and smiles and love.

A warm body sits next to him on a barstool, knocking elbows with a gruff muttered apology in a too familiar voice. Tony haunting him even here in a time and place the mortal man has never graced. His life spilling over and corrupting everything Loki sees and touches.

"Sorry."

"No. Don't be." Loki breathes out, lifting his head from his examination only to be lost in mahogany eyes. His heart clenching in his chest and bleeding out over his soul. The man next to him isn't Tony, the differences are vast, the voice just a little scotch broken and close. The hair scruffy and dark.

It's the eyes, the intelligent eyes that shine out even though a drunken haze and spark with the knowledge of the universe. Deep brown and pain filled, mirroring Loki's own.

He can't help but want to know what has stolen the shine from those familiar eyes and has to remind himself that this is not his mortal. He's not here to soothe this man's wounds, but to hide away from life and lick his own.

Returning his attention to his glass he spends more time spinning the tumbler along the scratched and nicked wood before drinking from it. The liquid burns and tastes of winter kisses and shared gasps of pleasure.

"Who'd you loose?" That same-but-not voice asks as he grasps his own glass of amber scotch and downs it with a single swallow.

For all the graces of his sliver tongue he fumbles with words as he takes in the vision next to him. "Wh… What?"

"In the war? It's over. Only us who've lost are still here drinking." The mortal says with wisdom and a fake smile.

"I lost a dear friend. A lover." His breaths out, admitting only because he could never lie to Tony, he can't lie to this mocking image ether. Tony didn't fall in the war of worlds two that the mortal is speaking of, but in a way he fell in a war. A war with his own body. A war with cells that had robed him of energy and his beautiful mind… his life.

The hum of acknowledgement isn't mocking, even though in this time men loving each other are forbidden by most standards, he must be amongst like company.

His hands slide over the bar as his drink is filled again, closing his eyes tight and trying not to remember the times Tony had stood up to a crowed of rowdy people and flipped them all off for mocking his sexuality. Stood up for Loki and their love.

In the wake of his pain he looks to the mirage of a man next to him. This mockery of Anthony in his youth. "You?"

Slim shoulders rise and fall as pain dark eyes look down to his drink. "Same."

"We are alike than." Loki breaths out, downing his glass and letting the scotch burn away memories for a haunting moment.

Turning on his stool he reaches out and offers his hand to the mortal. "Loki of Asgard."

"Howard of Stark." The man offers, shaking hands and blinking confused as Loki turns two shades paler.

"Stark."

"The inventor. Yeah." Inventor. Father.

Fuck.

"You're… Anthony's… he… Spoke much of you." He breaths out. His hand still holding tight to the mortals even as he blushes and dark eyes look back to his drink on the bar.

"I'm honored then." Howard tries hard, obviously clueless to how much Tony had spoken of punching his father in the face. Freeing his hand and rubbing it on his pant leg.

Many people already speak of the Starks already, one more isn't going to change the world but Howard is kind enough to respect Loki's memories.

"Steve, spoke none of you."

Dear god. The humor is the same and it takes him having to turn and drink from his scotch to stop his need to pull the senior Stark into his arms and sob.

"Steve, would have if he knew me." Loki replies back after his throat is done choking him and his heart is called enough to hear the bar around them.

"Roger's would have never seen me here. He'd… He'd want me out in the world, living. I bet your Anthony is the same."

"Much so. No one was more full of life than Tony." He knows his voice sounds broken but he cares too little and hurts too much to pull the pieces back together again.

Loki swears under his breath something that almost sounds like _fucking Steve Rogers_. Looking down to the twin vibranium bands on his finger. His and Anthony's both, in a round about way a gift from the captain, it was his shield the rare metal was liberated from.

"To your love and my captain." Howard states after a hauntingly quiet moment, raising his glass to the air. His offered smile is fragile but warm from scotch and sorrow.

"To Anthony and Steve." Loki agrees, taking the toast that's not unlike those to fallen warriors on Asgard. The glasses chiming like bells to Valhalla, scotch sloshing before they drink it down.

"Anthony. That's a good name." Howard states, licking his lips clean of the drink and shaking off the bartenders offer for a refill.

"It is. He was a good man. Powerful and just and wise." Loki whispers, stroking his hand though his hair and sweeping the black locks back from his face. "Everything all other humans are not."

"He sounds- I'm sorry." Senior Stark says under his breath. "Steve was much the same. The best of the best. It seems this war has done nothing but take from us those we need most."

Loki can't help but understand the man's loss and sorrow, only Howard's love was not stolen, only lost… lost to be found again in a different time.

Loki's lips twist as he nods his head, rising to his feet and towering over yet another drunken Stark. Mahogany eyes fallow him up and watch, always watching. So much father like son.

"No. Time has simply misplaced them." He says, leaning down and capturing scotch flavored lips with his one last time. More willing than one would have thought. So close to being the same, the taste, the feel. Dominant and demanding and needy. Hands rising to grip his jacket not push him away.

"You have reminded me, that things are not gone, simply lost." He whispers against kiss swollen lips. Drawing his magic around himself with a renewed hope.

"Howard. Seek your love in the ice, not the ocean." He states, letting his armor and leather clothing show though the glamour spell.

"How do… how… what?" Howard sputters, standing fast to his feet. His barstool crashing back and rattling the ghost ridden men from their sleepy stupors. Brown eyes bright with unbridled hope and shock.

Bowing with flourish he grins bright to the senior Stark. "I have simply to search for mine in the right places too."

Seeming to find his feet Howard offers his hand a final time. So adaptable. So much Tony. "Good luck then… Loki."


	6. He watches

Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition. Really, she deserves much worship. Without her most of this would just be drool.

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This was inspired by the prompt _protective!loki or hurt!tony, maybe both?, from a point of view other than theirs please :) _by mcrxroxx

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He watches. It is what he does, his job forever more. From the dawning of Asgard to the rise of Ragnarok he will stand and observe.

When Odin brought the whelp back from the war, he saw.

He watched. Mother and father and now bigger brother join in arms around the youth. Bringing it to health and warming it in their hearts, melting away all traces of the cold lands he'd come from.

When the boys, nearly twins in inseparability grew to knee height. He watched.

Watched them play and laugh; their smiles like the sun and the stars in the sky.

When the dark child grew apart from his golden family, when the boy god cast his illusions and the twisted roots of evil began to grow in his soul, he watched.

Observed.

As the tree of darkness grew.

As the careful chess game of power came crashing down around the young dark god.

Observed him fall.

And rise.

And fall again under mortals this time.

Kept watch as Odin returned him to Midgard.

The young god struggling under the onslaught of change and sorrow. Feet dragging and proud head hung low as the world moved around him.

He watched as one came to stand at his side when all others feared or mocked.

He graciously glanced away as friendship bloomed to something more, still glimpsing from time to time. Still watching to make sure the young god is surviving. Striving. Living.

Better than before. It's a good time. The dark god smiles again and laughs and thrives.

And he watches. Always watches. Never acts.

He can see the dark tree withering away, choked in a twine of electric wires and blooms that glow pale cerulean. Hope for all the worlds in the nine realms wrapped in delicate human hands.

Watching. Observing and allows himself to smile.

The warriors fighting, a thick band that Asgard has never seen the likes of. Proud battles playing out before his eyes. The two sons of Asgard golden once more. Brothers in arms, if not by blood.

But not everything he sees is well.

The mortal that brings so much life and brightness falls, once. Twice. Three times before he no longer has to cast his eyes to Midgard to find the dark little god.

"Loki. No mortal has ever crossed the Bifrost into Asgard for six thousand years by accordance of Odin."

Loki clutches the mortal tighter to his chest, pale and shaking the man is out of time, the gates of Valhalla opening to him even now. With all of Loki's powers, seen and unseen, he can not save him. "I must see my father."

Those words have not left that mouth in many-many years.

Watching him. Watching over all of everything, Heimdall steps back slowly from the platform.

"Go Loki, to the healers first. I will go to the king for you."

He does not need to watch him now. He does not need to see.

Turning his back on everything because the key to Ragnarok just walked into Asgard. The entire world balanced on the love one little god has for his mortal.


	7. Hurts

Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition

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The world turns to so much static as long cool fingers massaging slow patterns into his forehead and down his scalp, the sensation tingling down his spine as he tries to relax. His muscles don't catch on though and keep tense, the pain bringing everything into a scale of too much. Too much touch, too much sound, too much light.

"You've been working too hard, that is why, right?" Loki says softly from above, his voice barely cutting through the atmosphere in his brain. It's soft and lyrical in its own right, like liquid silk in his ears.

"Cant stop them. It just… happens." He groans, opening his eyes slowly even knowing the visual onslaught will push his already over taxed mind into a frenzy. The lights are dim but too bright for his eyes even now, making the edges of everything lit vibrate and hum sickeningly. Loki's silvery green eyes are full of concern as he looks down to him. His brow furrowed with stress lines.

Closing his eyes in shame he pushes his head further back into Loki's lap like he can sink away into the warm safety of the god and leave everything behind.

Pepper's always been the only one to see him when he falls apart. When his brilliant mind cannibalizes itself, mulching through projects as much as gray matter. The darker side to being Tony Stark. One of the darker sides anyways. If he really breaks it down he's sure he's made up of more anti-mater than bright hero.

Loki's lips are soft as he brings them down against his brow like he can sooth away all the migraines pain, like he can ground Tony though the hypersensitivity that drowns him. Return him to the world of living and the land of pain free. His sentiment does nothing against the migraines onslaught.

If only it was that easy. God, Odin, -fuck, Thor! - Anyone that's willing to hear his pleas from Asgard and beyond! Let it be that easy.

A debilitating railroad spike of pain driving itself through his frontal lobe with each pulse of his heartbeat. Driving his breathing to something choppy and keeping it there till his heart hammers against the arcs socket wall painfully. Doing it's best to peg him to the floor.

God. Even his blood feels funny in his body. Like it wants out. Burning.

Loki doesn't need to be murmuring to him softly over the beautiful white noise of slamming music, he needs to be building a coffin.

He's never died from his migraines before, obviously, but he's never sure each time one hits if he's going to have an aneurism or just be left a vegetable.

A whine must have escaped because Loki is barking out a command to Jarvis to turn on the lights before settling him on the cold floor were he found him a few hours ago before the god stands up. The silence roaring in his ears as he hears his own pain painted breaths.

His body won't stop shaking with pain and the lack of warmth now that Loki has removed himself from him. Curling onto his side and opening his eyes slowly to look up at the blurry vision that is Loki. Battle ready and weary to the bones, the god of chaos doesn't seem to be enjoying the mayhem that has attacked his lovers mind.

"Jarvis, Call Bruce, tell him we're coming to the tower, give him a list of Tony's symptoms." Loki says with barely contained worry in his voice, coating each word with horrified red as they hang in the air before sinking into the world around them.

He swallows thickly around the bile in his throat that's threatening to liberate his stomach.

"Master Laufeyson, Sir has never seen a doctor about the migraines before. Nor is it in Shields files."

"First time for everything Jarvis, call Doctor Banner. We're teleporting." Loki sighs as he kneels back at his side, catching a shaking hand and holding it tight for a moment, kissing each knuckle like he's made of glass.

He feels like it.

"We go now. Banner will help you." Loki breathes softly against his knuckles, gently laying a warm hand against the arc before scooting his arm under his shoulders and one under his knees. Standing easily. It's hard for him to forget sometimes that Loki strong despite his wiry body.

Loki holds him close for a second. Silently comforting himself in this last moment between them before all hell breaks loose.

With no ground beneath him to ground himself with the vertigo sinks its claws in and rips through his belly. Moaning softly and swallowing down bile as he hides his face against Loki's neck he knows that it's only going to get worse before getting better.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Tony. There is no force in the nine realms that can prevent me from making you better." Loki vows softly against his sweat soaked brow before he pulls his magic around them like a comforting cloak. It tingles at his nerves and dances along his skin in green flames that offer neither warmth nor cold. If he hadn't seen and felt it a hundred times already he'd question if it's just another hallucination.

Fear, cold and bitter strangles his heart in a pain that's felt even though the hurricane of his migraine.

He's not afraid of Loki not making him better, He's afraid of his god being taken away. Dragging a shaking arm around Loki's neck and burrowing himself closer against the strong deity as the world dissolves around them.

He's got to admit, its one hell of a way to tell the other Avengers that Loki is back on earth and bunking with him.


	8. Four hours too late

Big FAT thank you shout out to the worlds best Beta ever glamourraisedfromperdition

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"I brought some of those Crab Rangoon things you like so much back from Singapore with me."

"That's very kind of you." Loki observes leaning back against the chair and reclining a bit to catch the confused look on Rhodey's face as the man comes around the shelving separating this section of the lab from Tony's cars. The colonel is used to seeing Loki in and about any Stark abode but as with everyone else, they all still seem a little shocked to see him so… relaxed. Living a mortal life, well; as mortal of a life as the God of chaos can live with Tony Stark.

Everyone seems to expect Thor to adapt and be human but always seem so thrown by seeing Loki domestic. He'd be angered by the double standards if the blind confusion and chaos didn't entertain him.

Giving a half hearted grin the mortal wags the bag and an accusing finger at Loki. "You're not Tony."

"How very attuned you must be to your surroundings to make an observation like that."

"Yeah. Good to see you too you bastard."

Returning his nose to the soldering work he'd been elbows deep in he waves his free hand to Rhodey. "Do tell me Colonel what, if not simply crab cakes, brings you here?"

Setting the bag on the edge of the work bench the mortal leans in close to inspect the work he's doing to the insides of the military drone plane. "Where's Tony?"

Loki makes an unimpressed hum and twists his finger in the air absently, not even looking up from melding two wires together. "About."

"You're in a vague mood." Crossing his arms over his chest James leans his hip against the table and looks out over the garage floor that is more a bastard child between Stark Towers R and D floor and Jay Leno's private parking lot.

The man is fidgety, tapping his toe to the concrete floor and checking his watch before checking his phone like the time will be different.

Pulling his head up from his work Loki sneers; a look normally reserved for his brother. "You're here for trouble."

Rhodey glances down to the floor, caught in the act. Shame, such a human concept written all over his face. Loki could lie better as an infant than most Midgardians can as grown adults.

Pushing back from the table and drone plane he rises to his feet and snuffs down at the mortal. "You do not try to out trick a God. Speak, and maybe I will feel your plan is worthy of being heard by Anthony."

James spends a quiet moment shifting from foot to foot, a nerves habit of a war hardened veteran. "It's not a plan, or a trick. I'm here as his friend."

Growing tired of the games he leers in close, trapping Rhodey against the table with a hand on either side of the man. "Speak."

Rhodey tenses under the scrutiny, his lips twisting as he weighs his words carefully before speaking. "The Ten Rings have regrouped and have posted a declaration of war against IronMan. They're offering millions to the first person to bring them Tony's head. We just got word; I don't even think Shield knows yet."

"Sir Loki, there is an incoming call from Director Fury." Jarvis says from all around them, his voice wrapped in concern. Dealing with Shield is always touchy.

"Fuck. Ignore the call. Lockdown the systems they will attempt to override the protocols again." Loki hisses pushing against the table at the same time he pulls back, swiping out at the air with an empty hand. Anger rising, only for him to bottle it. These humans will pay with blood, and the blood of there children and grand children if Loki so sees it fit.

"Where is Tony, Loki?"

Ignoring the human he turns from his work, flexing his fingers and calling his magic to him. Summoning his armor and power. "I suggest you suit up."

"Loki, Where is Tony?" Rhodey tries again, worry bleeding through his voice even as he strides to the platform were Jarvis will incase him in armor.

"Anthony has gone into the belly of the monster himself… he left for the providence of Jordan four hours ago."


	9. never tell

Big thanks to Creo for the beta work! She's incredibly talented!  
And thanks to this whole fandom!  
For updates on my writing and general frostiron goodness follow my Tumblr at Blank-ghost . tumblr . com

* * *

It isn't his most pathetic moment.

Maybe.

He'll never admit it though, especially not right now, sitting as he is at his fifteen dollar yard sale table.

In the dark.

Scratch that, it's not completely dark; the muffled glow of the arc is battling against the butter yellow flicker of the single candle fighting for its life on top of the cupcake.

Alone. Utterly, completely, for the first time in his life—one is the loneliest number—alone.

He's careful not to exhale too hard lest the small flame extinguishes.

Sweeping his index finger gently into the creamy icing.

He doesn't really taste the it, just the bitter salt of tears he's too proud to let himself cry. He figures it's good though. Damn thing cost him the last ten dollars in his wallet.

It's all gone now. His billions. His friends. His lover imprisoned and his suit in pieces and under so many locks and keys no one can reach it ever again.

SHIELD had taken everything from him with horrifying tenacity. Stripped him of everything he ever was till Tony Stark isnothing more than a name in faded newspapers.

Discolored memories and forgotten moments.

Licking his thumb he kills the flame by pinching it between his fingers, the light of the room dulling a little as the arc fights to make up for its lost companion.

"Happy birthday," he breathes out a heavy sigh, pushing the lawn chair back and standing to his feet. Turning only to meet with a ghost.

A terrible specter.

Memories taking form to haunt him? Has life finally driven his brilliant mind to madness?

The leather and chilled smell is the same. The eyes just as green although the sadness in them was never there before.

"Did you make a wish?" the velvet voice asks, ominous shadow taking a slow step closer.

Tony shakes his head slowly no.

"And why not?"

"Nothing to wish for."

"Because you have all you could ever want?" Loki asks, that perfect look of mock confusion tilts his head to the side, green eyes missing nothing as he takes in the run-down rented room around him and not leaving Tony's eyes at the same time.

It's all just like he remembers. So much Loki.

Unbearably so.

"Because there's nothing I can have," Tony whispers, his voice croaking. Balling his fists tight till his knuckles hurt and his muscles are straining. Afraid that if he touches the vision it will disappear and alone he'll be again.

Loki looks away from him and his face is a picture of sadness, looking down to the cupcake and card table and lawn chair. The cracked linoleum floor. The leaky roof. The couch where he sleeps. One blanket. Only one.

Reaching down slowly, Tony watches his long fingers move over the candle, the flame breathing back to life, stronger than ever before. Bright and alive and everything Tony no longer is.

Loki lifts his sad eyes to him as he picks the cupcake up. Holding it out like an offering.

"Try again," he breathes, his voice weak and hurt now too. Demanding and pleading both at the same time.

Tony watches the little flame burn without ever melting the wax till it's too blurred by his finally falling tears. Closing his eyes tight but even then he still sees the flame, still sees Loki's burning green eyes. Still sees everything he wants but can no longer have.

"Wish, Anthony."

Just one wish…

Tony swallows past the lump in his throat, leaning close and blowing out the candle. The darkness of the room enveloping him, expanding and changing the world and everything till the earth under him feels like it's spinning in the wrong direction and knocking the air from his lungs.

He stumbles as he opens his eyes, Loki's eyes sharp on his, knowing. Too knowing even as everyone around him laughs and applauds. Thor's hand hitting his back like a hammer and Clint whistling loud and obnoxious even over everyone singing that stupid happy birthday song they sing at cheesy restaurants.

Loki sets the cupcake down and places his index finger over Tony's lips. Silencing him and already the memories of cold nights and being oh so alone are fading away like sand drifting through his fingers.

Replacing the finger with his cool lips, Loki takes him and clams him and forces him to remember everything he once had and now has again. All promises of a perfect future and home and love till Tony is nearly choking on his tears. Tears that no one else in the room will ever understand.

He doesn't know how Loki has done this, what great magic or godly deed, and soon he'll forget to even question that the world wasn't always this way. Soon coming oh so fast as Loki's cool lips move against his, and chill chases away the brokenness in his heart and head.

Loki's touch, clinging like glue, with the promises that this will never go away again breaks only long enough to whisper,

"Happy birthday, Anthony."


	10. SK log W special Halloween Edition

_**S=K log W special Halloween Edition**_:A frostiron Halloween short in appreciation of everyone in this a-freaking-mazing community.

Big thanks to Becky for the beta job!

Don't forget to follow my tumblr if you haven't; for writing related updates and all around frostiron goodness. Blank-ghost . tumblr . com

* * *

There'd been a considerable herd, like water buffalo crossing the African savanna. Thundering, loud and down right one of the scariest things Tony had ever come in contact with, leaving him winded and wide eyed. The trick-or-treaters dashing down the short driveway with sticky hands and faces blown wide by their smiles to join the other masses still clinging to the shadows of the streets. Giggles and shouts of boo echoing around the block.

Not a little bastard recognizing him for whom he is.

Thank god.

There is no way in hell he's recovering from this. Ever.

"I 'ate ou." He lisps as he passes the bowl into Rhodey's hands looking to him over the top of his rose tinted sunglasses. His friend's lips are pulled tight and doing everything he can to resist the smile tugging there, his dark eyes bright with humor.

"You're the one who said you don't get enough excitement in life." James laughed, taking the nearly empty bowl from his hands, shaking it as he looks down to the bottom. "You weren't supposed to give them all the candy Tony."

"They 'nugged me. 'M traumatized." Traumatized comes out sounding more like raw-ma-guys, making Tony stick his tongue out in disgust.

"You've destroyed space whales but seriously can't handle some kids in costumes?"

"Not the 'oint." He huffs, pulling the fake fangs out of his mouth and wiggling his over abused jaw.

Rhodey huffs and shakes his head in mock shame. "I've got more candy in the kitchen."

"There's more? If we don't have candy they'll go away though Rhodes! It was a good plan!" He cries with a wave of his hands, not sure if he's faking his wounded nature or not.

He lets out a frustrated whine as he snatches the nearly empty bowl from his friend's hands and digs though the crappy candy at the bottom, caramel cubes and lemon heads. Greedily grabbing the last Kit Kat from it and poking his tongue out of his mouth at his old friend.

"You fill it up. You hand out candy. I quit." Taking his prize outside and shimmying up the ladder propped against the roof, left from where he'd been hanging fake webs hours earlier. Making quick work before any of the wild monsters can see him as he kicks the ladder down back into the bushes.

From up here, he can see the rest of the nice block that Rhodey lives on lit in the orange of sunset, kids running about, tired parents dragged behind or left behind all together.

Settling himself on the rooftop he stretches his legs out and listens to the sounds and smells of a holiday he's never had any amount of respect for. A child's holiday and under Howard, he missed out on the festivities completely.

James answers the door as another loud group of ghoul and princess adorned kids mounts the offence against the poor colonel. Tony leaning close to the edge to watch them. Giving the parents waiting on the sidewalk a friendly wave that's returned tiredly as the throng shuffles out of the porch and Rhodey closes the door again.

Tearing into the wrapper of his own candy as he watches a troop of teens, too cool to wave to the crazy man on the roof; earning a middle finger from the eccentric engineer. Other than that every group of tots smile to him with chocolate stained lips and wave enthusiastically.

Without even knowing he's Iron Man. Not asking for his billions or help or autographs.

It's a nice feeling.

"What is the point to this madness?" Loki's voice comes to him with a chill at his side and the breeze of disturbed molecules.

Tony's used to it so it only half gives him a heart attack.

Arching his eyebrow and trying to fake unimpressed as he looks to Loki, dressed in tailored slacks and a dark green button down covered by a pea-coat. The god's long legs are stretched out along side Tony's.

If Tony only had one word to describe his non-Norse fuck buddy it would be edible.

"Halloween? It's this Earth thing for kids. Fun." He says with a shrug of his shoulders, snapping off one of the two chocolate bars and taking a bite of the miniscule fun size snack.

"How curious." Loki muses, reaching out and snatching out fast to steal the other chocolate stick from Tony's hand. Earning a squawk from Tony in honest shock and frustration.

"I'd earned that!"

"Nnmfhnow." The thousand year old deity says around a mouth full candy, his green eyes are mischievous and clearly enjoying himself.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Tony reaches out and grabs Loki by the back of his neck and pulls. The startled look on Loki's face is a priceless moment before he hums his approval as Tony licks his tongue over the god's lips.

Tasting chocolate and that ozone tang of magic on Loki's lips. Smiling and pulling back teasingly before Loki can take control, deepen the kiss, and send both of them into the land of inappropriate things to do in public.

"Did you earn that too?" Loki asks, arching his eyebrow and resting himself back against his elbows on the slant of the roof.

Tony, self satisfied, nods and looks back out to the street as the street lights flicker to life. "Indeed I did."

"I believe I like this Halloween." Loki says, giving a soft smile of his own, looking back to the streets and children.

"You know, I have to agree with you there."


	11. to try again

Big thanks to Becky for the beta job!

* * *

Don't forget to follow my tumblr if you haven't; for writing related updates and all around frostiron goodness. Blank-ghost . tumblr . com

* * *

The sound of the wind howling nearly steals away the desperate wails of the infant. The cries slowly growing weaker in effort as the bone chill saps the life from the small creature.

It's a picture of despair that makes him feel as though his own chest has been halved, leaving his bleeding heart on display.

Loneliness and sorrow heavy on his mind as he takes in this war-devastated land. The blood of his own people frozen on the ground where the babe lays, tiny body curled to prolong what little warmth it has.

Abandoned, to never go home again.

He can hear Anthony shifting across the workshop, maintaining the controls to the machine that has punched this hole through time and space itself.

Powerful Midgardian magic indeed, his brilliant inventor has given him a doorway to fix everything.

Starting here.

Here as the tiny babe's cries die down to soft whimpers of lost hope.

Stepping closer to the portal he feels the pull of the icy realm just beyond the gateway of energy, blowing its snow into his face and dusting the surrounding workshop with powder.

Just feet away the babe shivers. Alone. Always so alone.

His hands itch to sooth the newborn, hold and comfort and give it everything he'd never remembered having.

"You can go back now. Change everything." Unable to pull his eyes away from the spectacle of death and destruction before him he simply listens to the words from Anthony across the room.

What should be joy is laced with a dark amount of mourning.

He'd never thought anyone would miss him here.

How many weeks had been spent here in this very lab, rewriting the history of magic and science so that this could come to pass? How many thousands of hours has he spent in the company and growing attention of the mortal man? A man of whit and genius unmatched. A man who'd only shown him respect as a peer and honest affection.

A man who's given him the greatest gift ever; the way to go back and change everything, to make right thousands of years of wrongs.

A mere mortal who loved him enough to give him _everything_.

Pulling his eyes away from the portal, black hair whips his face in the arctic breeze as he looks to this strange, beautiful man.

Anthony stands strong, pride keeping him from revealing the emotions that boil just below the surface. Eyes, ever the window of the soul are so betraying though. Hurt and sorrow and happiness and loss all battle for even ground.

"Go on. I don't know how long this bitch is going to stay open without ripping the universe apart." The mortal says, caught in his weakness and covering for it cheaply. "You know, try not to come back again and throw me out a window."

Swallowing back emotions he'd long thought dead he turns back to the infant, so cold and alone for so much of its existence. The lies and hurt it must endure to find a place in life that it feels warm; nearly soul breaking for a period and it will always bare the scars of these battles.

But the reward.

The mortal hands that smooth all chills no matter how deep in his soul…

Shaking his head slowly he steps back, snow and ice crunching under his boots against the stone floor of the lab.

"Close it."

"What?!" There's too much fear and hope in that voice to be anything but the honest truth, drawing a tight smile to his lips.

"Close it. Some things are worth waiting for."


End file.
